


you're so cold (but you feel alive)

by captainkallus



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, Mostly Dialogue, fulcrum era kal, i guess, kallus has serious issues, kalluzeb - Freeform, lothal gets cold at night, no seriously please get alexsandr into therapy, on da phone, phone fic, post through imperial eyes pre zero hour, zeb knows about these issues and wants to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainkallus/pseuds/captainkallus
Summary: “It’s fine. I haven’t felt warmth since Bahryn.” Kallus murmured, monotone. He jerked upright realizing he had said it aloud, hearing Zeb’s chuckle on the other end of the line.“What the hell could you mean by that?”
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 16
Kudos: 111





	you're so cold (but you feel alive)

“...Garazeb. You can’t… you can’t keep calling me like this. It’s not proper.”

“Not proper? We’re rebels. Proper doesn’t matter.”

“You’re a rebel. I’m an asset.”

“Kallus-”

Kallus sighed, rubbing his eyes. Moonlight shone in through the tower’s cracked walls, casting bright rays onto his dark uniform. The Fulcrum symbol hovered in the air like a beacon, silver through the grays. Rebel Orrelios was talking, but Kallus couldn’t hear him. He was tired, so very tired. Exhaustion hung like weights on his eyelids as he fought to keep them open, the bitter cold seeping into his body from the tower’s floor the only thing keeping him conscious. He shivered, then almost laughed to himself how familiar it was to be cold while Garazeb spoke to him. Too familiar.

“Kallus, are you even listening?”

The blond man sighed, rubbing his arms in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. 

“Admittedly, I wasn’t. But my point still stands. You shouldn’t be calling me like this.”

“And why not?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as Kallus wondered whether to push on with the heavy conversation it begged for. He was too tired to conduct it, but it seemed Garazeb would not quit unless he did.

“Because it’s you. And me. The Butcher of Lasan and the honorable warrior. You cannot be friendly with me, Garazeb, or anything else. It isn’t right. It’s downright disrespectful. I don’t know how you disagree.”

“I disagree because of that right there. You know what you’ve done, you know it’s wrong, and you're working to atone for it. I happen to believe in second chances.”

“I don’t deserve your second chance.” Kallus mumbled pitifully, curling his knees into his chest. He had been right, on that station above Geonosis: Lasats never know when to give up. Garazeb had told him multiple times before how he felt about him, but Kallus couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t right to.

“I don’t care what you think. How about that?”

Kallus stared in silence at the flickering symbol, Zeb’s growl sending chills down his spine.

“I don’t care. I forgive you. Is that what you need to hear? I’ll say it as many times as I need to. I forgive you, because I can see the man underneath all that now. I see a man trying with every bit of his heart and soul to make up for the things he’s done. I see a man worthy of my friendship, of my attention. Of my love.”

“Love, huh?” Kallus sniffed, shivering. Garazeb ignored the remark.

“Are you cold?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“That sniff. You did that a lot on Bahryn.”

Kallus raised an eyebrow, dumbfounded that Zeb would pay attention to him enough to notice that and then remember the sound of it, nearly a year later. 

“Yes, Garazeb. I’m cold.”

“I know you can’t tell me where you are, but I hope you go somewhere warm soon. No good if my Fulcrum gets sick.”

“It’s fine. I haven’t felt warmth since Bahryn.” Kallus murmured, monotone. He jerked upright realizing he had said it aloud, hearing Zeb’s chuckle on the other end of the line.

“What the hell could you mean by that?”

“I just- I remember thinking that I, ‘haven’t felt this warm in my life and it’s here on a frozen moon’,” Kallus grumbled, knowing full-well how dumb and teenager-y it sounded. “Because of you.”

For the first time that night, Zeb didn’t reply immediately, Kallus’s words floating between them in the darkness. Finally, there was a gruff sigh and the sound of Zeb adjusting himself, wherever he was.

“You say things like that and then expect me to just stop calling you, and to leave you alone. I think we both know what you want here. More than anything.”

“And what would that be?” Kallus asked dryly, not a fan of where this conversation was headed.

“Me. You want everything with me. The same way I want everything with you. But you’re filled with so much guilt, you don’t think you deserve what you want.” Zeb put it simply, plainly, yet with so much emotion and truth behind the words. Kallus lost his breath in his throat for a moment while he struggled to understand how Zeb could pull him apart so easily.

“E-everything?”

“Everything,” Zeb confirmed. “You feel it, too. The pull. Tell me I’m not alone in this.”

Fulcrum sat in silence, brain running at a far faster speed than he was awake enough to process.

“It was always going to be us, Kallus.”

“I know,” It finally came out as a hoarse whisper. “Somehow, I always knew.”

They sat in a comfortable hush, the only sounds being the night wildlife of Lothal and the white noise of the transmission.

Finally, Kallus spoke, his voice soft enough that Zeb could barely make out the words.

“It’s almost funny. From a certain point of view, one could say I threw my entire life away for love.”

“You sound like a rebel,” Garazeb chuckled.

“You make me feel like one.”

Kallus laughed softly and shook his head, wondering how Zeb had urged this conversation out of him, this confession. It was true, undoubtedly so, that he shared Garazeb’s feelings. But men like him don’t ‘get the girl’, like a hero in a fairytale. Men like him die in vain. Men like him don’t get the happy ending, they don’t get the tearful reunion. Men like him get a blaster squadron and a final, silent prayer that it was all worth it in the end. Garazeb didn’t need to know these things. Garazeb didn’t need to know that he’d never be making it out of this complex. And when he does get caught, as Thrawn keeps saying he’s bound to, he doesn’t need to be worried about a lover on the other side of the galaxy. It’s better to just let Zeb’s feelings fade, and his own. Better for Zeb. Better for him to throw the meteorite out, too, and get rid of that constant reminder of Bahryn’s warmth. Men like him didn’t deserve to feel warm. 

“I love you.” Kallus blurted out, against every cell in his body screaming not to. He realized he was gasping for breath, white clouds escaping his lips with each heave of his chest. He felt as if his armor was squeezing him, like the walls were caving in, like missiles had been fired into the base of the tower and he was going down, down, down. He was so cold.

“I know,” Garazeb replied. Kallus could picture his poker face from here. “I love you, too. Moron.”

It was as if the galaxy was coming together. Warmth enveloped Kallus’s shivering body, leaving clarity in his eyes. For a brief moment, Kallus even found himself wishing he could snuggle into Zeb’s arms. After the silence stretched out for over a minute, Zeb spoke, soft but sincere.

“Take care of yourself, Kallus. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

For the first time, Kallus didn’t try to argue with him. 

-

now featuring art by the amazing @ssmellanie on twitter!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! this was just a lil smth that's been living in my head.  
> you can also find me on twitter @captainkallus <3


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